Tess soon perceiv ed as sh e walked in the flock, sometimes with this on e, sometimes with that, that the fresh night air was producing stagger ings and serpentine courses among the men who had partaken too freely; some of the more careless women also were wandering in their gait—to wit, a dark virago, Car Darch, dubbed Queen of Spades, till lately a favour ite of d'Urberville's; Nancy, her s ister, nicknamed the Queen of D iamonds; and the young married woman who had already tu mbled do wn.Yet ho wever terres trial and lumpy their appearance just now to the mean unglamoured eye, to themselves the case was different.They followed the roa d with a sen sation that they were soarin g along in a s upporting medium, possessed of original and pr ofound thou ghts, themselves and surrounding nature forming an organism of which all the parts harmoniously and joyously interpenetrated each other.They were as sublime as the moon and stars above them, and the moon and stars were as ardent as they.
Tess, however, had undergone such painful experiences of this kind in her father's house, that the discovery of their condition spoilt the pleasure she was beginning to feel in the moonlight journey.Yet she stuck to the party, for reasons above given.
In the open highway they had progressed in scattered order; but now their route was through a field-gate, and the foremost finding a difficulty in opening it they closed up together.
This leading pedes trian was Car the Queen o f Spades, who carr ied a wicker-basket containing her mother's groceries, her own draperies, and o ther purchases for the week.The basket being large and heavy, Car had placed it for convenience of porter age on the top of her head, where it rod e on in jeopardized balance as she walked with arms akimbo.
“Well—whatever is that a-creeping down thy back, Car Darch?”said one of the group suddenly.
All looked at Car.Her gown was a light cotton print, and from the back of her head a kind of rope could b e seen descending to some distance below her waist, like a Chinaman's queue.
“'Tis her hair falling down, ”said another.
No; it was not her hair：it was a black stream of something oozing from her basket, and it glistened like a slimy snake in the cold still rays of the moon.
“'Tis treacle, ”said an observant matron.
Treacle it w as.Car's poor old grandmother had a weakness for the sweet stuff.Honey she h ad in plenty out of her own h ives, but treacle was what her soul des ired, and Car h ad been abou t to g ive her a treat of s urprise.Hastily lowering the basket the dark girl found that the vessel containing the syrup had been smashed within.
By this time th ere h ad arisen a sh out of laughter at the e xtraordinary appearance of Car's back, which irritated the dark queen into getting rid of the disfigurement by the firs t sudden means availab le, and ind ependently of the help of the scoffers.She rushed excitedly into the field they were about to cross, and flinging herself flat on her back upon the grass, began to wipe her gown as well as she could by spinning horizontally on the herbage and dragging herself over it upon her elbows.
The laughter rang louder; they clung to the gate, to the posts, rested on their staves, in the weak ness engendered by their convulsions at the spectacle of Car.Our heroine, w ho had hith erto held h er peace, a t th is wild moment could not help joining in with the rest.
It was a misfortune—in more way s than on e.No sooner did th e dark queen h ear the soberer r icher note o f Tess a mong those o f the oth er wo rk-people than a long s mouldering sense of rivalry inflamed her to madness.She sprang to her feet and closely faced the object of her dislike.
“How darest th'laugh at me, hussy！”she cried.
“I couldn't really help it when t'others did, ”apologized Tess, still tittering.
“Ah, th'st think th'be est ev erybody, destn't, because th'beest firs tfavourite with He just now！But stop a bit, my lady, stop a bit！I'm as good as two of such！Look here—here's at'ee！”
To Tess's h orror the dark queen b egan str ipping off th e bo dice o f her gown—which for the added reason of its ridiculed condition she was only too glad to b e free of—till she had bared her plu mp neck, shoulders, and ar ms to the moonshine, und er w hich they lo oked as lu minous an d b eautiful as s ome Praxitelean creation, in their p ossession of the faultless rotundities of a lusty country girl.She closed her fists and squared up at Tess.
“Indeed, then, I sha ll not fight！”said the latter majestically; ”and if I had known you was of th at sort, I wouldn't have so let myself down as to come with such a whorage as this is！”
The rather too inclusiv e speech b rought down a torr ent of vituperation from other quarters upon fair Tess's unlucky head, particularly from the Queen of Diamonds, who having stood in the relations to d'Urberville that Car had also b een s uspected of, united w ith the latter against th e c ommon enemy.Several o ther wom en also chim ed in, with an an imus which none of th em would have been so fatuous as to sho w but for the rollicking evening they had passed.Thereupon, finding Tess unfairly browbeaten, the husbands and lovers tried to make peace by defending her; but the result of that attempt was directly to increase the war.
Tess was ind ignant and ashamed.She no longer minded the loneliness of the way and the lateness of the hour; her one object was to g et away from thewhole crew as soon as possible.She knew well enough that the better among them would repent of their passion next day.They were all now inside the field, and she was edging back to rush off alone when a horseman emerged almost silently fro m th e co rner of the h edge that s creened th e road, and Alec d'Urberville looked round upon them.
“What the devil is all this row about, work-folk?”he asked.
The exp lanation was no t readily forthco ming; an d, in truth, he did not require any.Having heard their vo ices while y et some way off he had ridden creepingly forward, and learnt enough to satisfy himself.
Tess was standing apart from the rest, near the gate.He bent over towards her.“Jump up behind me, ”he whispered, “and we'll get shot of the screaming cats in a jiffy！”
She felt a lmost ready to faint, so vi vid was her sense of the crisis.At almost any other moment of her life she would have refused such proffered aid and co mpany, as she had refused th em sev eral tim es b efore; and now the loneliness would no t of itself have forced her to do otherwise.But coming as the invitation did at the particular juncture when fear and ind ignation at these adversaries could be transformed by a spring of the foo t into a triumph over them, she abandoned herself to her impulse, climbed the gate, put her toe upon his instep, and scram bled into the saddle behind him.The pair were speed ing away into th e distan t gra y by the time that the co ntentious re vellers beca me aware of what had happened.
The Queen of Spades forgot the stain on her bo dice, and stood beside the Queen of Diamonds and the new-married, staggering young woman—all with a gaze of fixity in the direction in which the horse's tramp was diminishing into silence on the road.
“What be ye.looking at?”asked a man who had not observed the incident.
“Ho-ho-ho！”laughed dark Car.
“Hee-hee-hee！”laughed the tippling bride, as she steadied her self on the arm of her fond husband.
“Heu-heu-heu！”laughed dark Car's mother, stroking her moustache as she explained laconically：“Out of the fryingpan into the fire！”
Then these children of th e open air, whom even excess of alcohol cou ldscarce in jure per manently, betook themselves to the field-p ath; and as they went there moved onward with them, around the shadow of each one's head, a circle of opalized light, formed by the moon's rays upon the glistening sheet of dew.Each pedestrian could see no halo but his or her own, which never deserted the head-shado w, whatever its vulgar unsteadiness might b e; but adhered to it, and p ersistently beautified it; till the erratic motions seemed an inherent part of the irradiation, and the fumes of their breathing a component of the night's mist; and the spirit of the scene, and of the moonlight, and of Nature, seemed harmoniously to mingle with the spirit of wine.
11
The twain cantered along for some time without speech, Tess as sheclung to him still panting in her triumph, yet in other respects dubious.She had perceived that the horse was not the spirited one he sometimes rode, and felt no alarm on that score, thou gh her seat was precarious enough despite her tigh t hold of him.She b egged him to slow the animal to a w alk, wh ich Alec accordingly did.
“Neatly done, was it not, dear Tess?”he said by and by.
“Yes！”said she.“I am sure I ought to be much obliged to you.”
“And are you?”
She did not reply.
“Tess, why do you always dislike my kissing you?”
“I suppose—because I don't love you.”
“You are quite sure?”
“I am angry with you sometimes！”
“Ah, I half feared as much.”Neverthe less, Alec did no t ob ject to th at confession.He knew that anything was better than frigid ity.“Why haven't you told me when I have made you angry?”
“You know very well why.Because I cannot help myself here.”
“I haven't offended you often by love-making?”
“You have sometimes.”
“How many times?”
“You know as well as I—too many times, ”
“Every time I have tried?”
She was silent, and the horse ambled along for a considerable distance, till a faint lu minous fog, which had hung in the hollows all th e evening, became general and enveloped them.It s eemed to ho ld the moonlight in suspens ion, rendering it more pervasive than in clear air.Whether on this account, or fro m absent-mindedness, or from sleepiness, she did not perceive that they had long ago passed the po int at which th e lane to Tr antridge branched fro m th e highway, and that her conductor had not taken the Trantridge track.
She was inexpressibly weary.She had risen at five o'clock every morning of that week, had been on foot the whole of each day, and on this evening had in addition walked the three miles to Chaseborough, waited three hours for her neighbours without eating or drinking, her impatience to start them preventing either; she h ad then walked a mile of the way home, and had undergone the excitement of the quarrel, till, with the slow progress of their steed, it was now nearly one o'clock.Only once, ho wever, was she overcome by actual drowsiness.In that moment of oblivion her head sank gently against him.
D'Urberville stopped the horse, withdrew his feet from the stirrups, turned sideways on the saddle, and enclosed her waist with his arm to support her.
This immediately put h er on the defensive, and with one of th ose sudden impulses of reprisal to which she was liable she gave him a little push from her.In his tick lish position h e nearly lost his balan ce and only just avoided ro lling over in to th e road, the horse, thoug h a powerfu l one, b eing fortunately th e quietest he rode.
“That is d evilish unkind！”he said.“I mean no harm—only to keep you from falling.”
She pondered suspiciously; till, thinking that this might after all be tru e, she relented, and said quite humbly, “I beg your pardon, sir.”
“I won't pardon you unless you show some confidence in me.Good God！”he burst ou t, “what am I, to be repu lsed so by a mere chit like you?For n ear three mortal months have you trifled with my feelings, eluded me, and snubbed me; and I won't stand it！”
“I'll leave you to-morrow, sir.”
“No, you will not leave me to-morrow！Will y ou, I ask o nce more, show your belief in me by letting me clasp you with my arm?Come, between us two and nobody else, now.We know each other well; and you know that I love you, and think you are the prettiest girl in the world, which y ou are.Mayn't I tre at you as a lover?”
She drew a quick pettish breath of objection, writhing uneasily on her seat, looked far ahead, and murmured, “I don't know—I wish—how can I say yes or no when—”
He settled the matter by clasping his arm round her as he desired, and Tessexpressed no further negative.Thus they sidled slowly onward till it struck her they had been advan cing for an un conscionable time—far longer th an was usually occupied by th e short jour ney from Chase-boroug h, even at this walking pace, and that they were no longer on hard road, but in a mere trackway.
“Why, where be we?”she exclaimed.
“Passing by a wood.”
“A wood—what wood?Surely we are quite out of the road?”
“A bit of The Chase—the oldest wood in England.It is a lovely night, and why should we not prolong our ride a little?”
“How could you be so treacherous！”said Tess, between archness and real dismay, and get ting rid of his arm by pulling o pen his fing ers one by one, though at th e risk of slipping off herself.“Just when I've been putting such trust in y ou, and obliging you to pleas e you, because I though t I had wronged you by that push！Please set me down, and let me walk home.”
“You cannot walk home, darling, even if the air were clear.We are miles away from Trantridge, if I must tell you, and in this growing fog y ou might wander for hours among these trees.”
“Never mind that, ”she coaxed.“Put m e down, I beg y ou.I don't mind where it is; only let me get down, sir, please！”
“Very well, then, I wi ll—on one co ndition.Having brought you here to this out-of-the-way place, I feel myself responsible for your safe-conduct home, whatever y ou may y ourself feel ab out lt.As to y our getting to Trantridge without assistance, it is q uite impossible; for, to tell the truth, dear, owing to this fog, wh ich so d isguises ev erything, I don't quite know where we ar e myself.Now, if you will promise to wait beside the horse while I walk through the bushes till I co me to some road or house, and ascer tain exactly our whereabouts, I'll deposit you here willingly.When I com e back I'll give you full directions, and if y ou insist upon walking you may; or y ou may ride—at your pleasure.”
She accepted these ter ms, and s lid off on th e near side, though not till he had stolen a cursory kiss.He sprang down on the other side.
“I suppose I must hold the horse?”said she.
“Oh no; it's not necessary, ”replied Alec, pattin g the pan ting creatur e.“He's had enough of it for to-night.”
He turned the horse's head into the bushes, hitched him on to a bough, and made a sort of couch or nest for her in the deep mass of dead leaves.
“Now, you sit there, ”he said.“The leaves have no t got damp as y et.Just give an eye to the horse—it will be quite sufficient.”
He took a few steps away from her, but, returning, said, “By the bye, Tess, your father has a new cob to-day.Somebody gave it to him.”
“Somebody?You！”
D'Urberville nodded.
“O how very good of y ou that is！”she exclaimed, with a painf ul sense of the awkwardness of having to thank him just then.
“And the children have some toys.”
“I didn't know—you ev er sen t them any thing！”she murmured, much moved.“I almost wish you had not—yes, I almost wish it！”
“Why, dear?”
“It—hampers me so.”
“Tessy—don't you love me ever so little now?”
“I'm gratefu l, ”she r eluctantly ad mitted.“But I fear I do n ot—”The sudden vision of his p assion for h erself as a factor in this result so dis tressed her that, beg inning with one slow tear, and then following with ano ther, she wept outright.
“Don't cry, dear, dear one！Now sit down here, an d wait till I come.”Sh e passively sat down am id the leaves he had heaped, and shivered slightly.“Are you cold?”he asked.
“Not very—a little.”
He touched her with h is fingers, which sank into her as into d own.“You have only that puffy muslin dress on—how's that?”
“It's my best su mmer one.'Twas very warm when I started, and I didn't know I was going to ride, and that it would be night.”
“Nights gro w chilly in September.Let me see.”He pulled off a light overcoat th at he h ad wo rn, and pu t it roun d her tenderly.“That's it—now you'll feel warmer, ”he continued.“Now, my pretty, rest there; I shall soon beback again.”
Having bu ttoned th e ov ercoat round her shou lders he p lunged in to t he webs of vapours which by this time formed veils between the trees.She could hear the rus tling of th e branches as he ascende d the adjo ining slope, till his movements were no louder than the hopping of a bird, and f inally died away.With the setting of the moon the pale light lessened, and Tess became invisible as she fell into reverie upon the leaves where he had left her.
In the meantime Alec d'Urberville had pushed on up the slope to clear his genuine doubt as to the quarter of The Chase they were in.He had, in f act, ridden quite at random for over an hour, taking any turning that came to hand in order to p rolong companionship with her, and giving far more attention to Tess's moonlit person than to any way side object.A little rest for th e jaded animal being desirable, h e did not has ten his sear ch for land marks.A clamber over th e h ill into th e ad joining vale brought h im to the f ence of a high way whose contours he recognized, which settled the question of their whereabouts.D'Urberville thereupon turned back; but by this time th e moon had quite gone down, and partly on account of the fog The Chase was wrapped in th ick darkness, although morning was no t far off.He was obliged to advance with outstretched hands to avoid contact with the boughs, and discovered that to hit the ex act spot fro m wh ich he had s tarted was at firs t en tirely bey ond him.Roaming up and down, round and round, he at length heard a slight movement of the horse close at hand; and the sleeve of h is overcoat unexpectedly caught his foot.
“Tess！”said d'Urberville.
There was no answer.The obscur ity was now so grea t that he could see absolutely nothing but a pale nebulousness at his feet, which represented the white muslin figure he had lef t upo n the dead leaves.Ev erything else w as blackness alike.D'Urberville stooped; and heard a gentle regular breathing.He knelt and be nt lower, till her breath warmed his face, an d in a m oment his cheek was in contact w ith h ers.Sh e was sleep ing soundly, and upon her eyelashes there lingered tears.
Darkness an d silence ru led everywhere around.Above th em rose the primeval yews and oaks of The Chase, in which were poised gentle roostin gbirds in their last nap; and about them stole the hopping rabbits and hares.But, might some say, where was Tess's guardian angel?where was the prov idence of her simple faith?Perhaps, like that other god of whom the ironical Tishbtte spoke, he was talk ing, or he was pursuing, or he was in a jou rney, or he was sleeping and not to be awaked.
Why it was that upon this beautiful feminine tissue, sensitive as gossamer, and pr actically blank as snow as y et, th ere should hav e b een tr aced such a coarse p attern as it w as doo med to r eceive; why so often the co arse appropriates the finer thus, the wrong man the woman, the wrong woman the man, many thousand y ears of analytical philosophy have f ailed to explain to our sense of order.One m ay, indeed, ad mit the possibility of a retrib ution lurking in the presen t catastrophe.Doubtless some of Tess d'Urberville's mailed ancestors rollicking home from a fray had dealt the same measure even more ruthlessly towards peasant girls of their time.But though to visit the sins of the fathers upon the children may be a morality good enough for divinities, it is scorned by average human nature; and it therefore does not mend the matter.
As Tess's own people d own in those retreats are nev er tired of say ing among each other in their fatalistic way：“It was to be.”There lay the pity of it.An imm easurable socia l chas m wa s to div ide our hero ine's personality thereafter from that previous self of hers who s tepped from her mother's door to try her fortune at Trantridge poultry-farm.
